Chapter 1
One Hand Behind My Back
I'd take a seizure to this any day of the week. A hundred seizures, back to back, myself covered in piss and puke before I'd take this. Pain is excruciating when you're lucid and when you can see your wound clearly. My hand, what do I compare it to? Hamburger? Nah, too cliché. I'd say it was more like skin and blood and bones poking out of skin producing blood. If I got out of this, which I doubted highly considering what I saw, that hand would be forever useless. Only God can fix shit like that. Useless appendage attached to a useless body being thrown around by ghosts. Jesus Christ at least I know how to go out with an interesting end! Who the hell else can say when they meet St. Peter, "Hey, I was torn apart by a ghost and his buddy ghost in one evening while trying to save some people? Cool right?" I bet even the Devil would be impressed, then pissed because I was toying around in his domain.
Arthur was watching this and I wanted to say something witty but my mouth was really dry. I thought first that I wanted something to drink but at the same time, I had a ton of wetness in my mouth that just wasn't right. Coppery and gross, like that one time I bit down on my cheek too hard or when I got hit with that baseball bat in gym. It was like those times, so how was it the same… Oh yeah. Blood in my mouth. Gross. It was dribbling out of my mouth and onto the glass floor into a pool so I figured this was about it right? Better say something cool before it all ends.
"Save… your kids-" and then I felt arms grabbing my stiff body. I had a hundred thoughts going through my mind because the arms made me see different than if it were a ghost. Ghosts just make me freak the fuck out but human contact gives me visions. I saw a big blue house, two stories but comfortable. A real house, not a damn glass one like this. I saw the Kriticos kids in their respectable rooms, emerging, coming to a dinner table. And holy jumping Jesus is that me? Me coming from a stove with a pan of God knows what but I'm sure it was tasty. Arthur patted my back, said thanks, and sat down with the rest of them. Breakfast time? A domestic breakfast with me as a chef and a family who I'm trying to save? Really? I can dig this.
"Dennis. Dennis wake up. Come on!" Hey Arthur you were just in my vision and you have a pretty nice house. Don't know if yellow is the best color for a kitchen but I can be a nit-picking bastard sometimes. None the less, Arthur was the arms grabbing me and pulling me. I can assume what happened from the glimpses I got from my glasses. The wall I had barricaded Arthur with was laying on the floor with a stunned Hammer and Juggernaut some feet away. Could he do that? I mean think about it, he was totally safe behind that wall of writing so why would he have pushed it in the direction of the assholes kicking my asshole in order to save my asshole? Profanity aside, that's all I could think of. I mean the ghosts had to abide by the laws written on the glass and the glass was a barrier; you push a barrier against a ghost, it must retreat. It could temporarily stun them enough to run but Arthur was hardly running right now. No, it was more like dragging my sorry corpse with some effort away from the beasts.
"Lemme go, you gotta go!" I wasn't coherent. Far fucking from it. Arthur kept pulling but the Juggernaut and Hammer recovered from the attack of glass and began their approach. I kind of wished Arthur wouldn't have me by the arms because I kept having flashes between watching the hyenas loom and the typical ghost seizures. It was such a painful combination right now I was lucky to stay awake. This flash though was kind of pleasant.
It was Bobby and I playing video games. Oh yeah, wildly amazing right but hey considering I was dying, this is pretty cool. I think we were playing Dead Space because Bobby still had that stupid obsession with death but at least it'd gotten tamed by video games. It was hard to play with one hand- oh god that's weird to see me with only one hand, the other amputated. I did ok though. I just had to maneuver the joystick with the remains of my wrist. Still really fucking weird. Arthur was on the couch behind us telling Bobby to head to bed. Narc.
"Hey you have school tomorrow."
"But Kathy got to sleep over at a friend's house!"
"She's also a freshman in college so she has an idea of what she can and can't do. Bed."
"Man!" Bobby was gone pretty quick. I got off the floor and sat next to Arthur who had an arm open toward me. Weird.
"Dennis you're going to have to work with me if you want to get out of this!" He let go of me and though I was tired and sore, I caught glimpse of the two ghosts again and yeah, it was time to move. Arthur helped me up and we ran. Well he ran and I hobbled. We reached the end of the corridor with no more happy glass to keep us safe but I was honestly hearing things that sounded like chanting so maybe my crazy mind was at its breaking point. It kept getting louder but so did the blood rushing to my head from the strenuous movement. I hit the wall and Arthur grabbed me, pulled me down and we huddled like cockroaches about to be steppe don by two huge fucking boots that just so happened to be pissed off. Fuck.
Flashing. Great timing. Sitting in a freaked out state and having an awesome seizure to boot.
"You know I appreciate you helping me out."
"Don't mention it. Free room and board? Hot damn Arthur."
Gloves help minimize the contact, the flashes. Arthur had a pair on as he rubbed my back. My back always hurts so I'm like a fucking dog when I can get a back rub. I cooked and cleaned and he paid me in back rubs, a room, and all the Italian cooking I could stomach.
"You're so easily pleased."
"Yeah well I'm a depraved mother-fucker."
"There's nothing wrong with that." He kissed the back of my head. Whoa. That was oddly homo yet slightly comforting? What the fuck were these flashes?
When I opened my eyes again I saw Juggernaut mere inches away reaching for me. I screamed and pulled into Arthur who kept holding me protectively. But loudly the chants continued and before they could reach us, the chanting I could almost recognized called them center. They dissipated to nothingness and I finally took a moment to realize that, though rare it was, my vision was wrong. I wasn't gonna die. I really wasn't. But I didn't think I could keep my eyes open much longer so I didn't. Sleep sounded really good right now and though Arthur kept slapping my face to keep me awake, I said fuck it and decided to let sleep take me for a ride.
~*~
"Dennis. Dennis Rafkin. Wake up. If you can hear me squeeze my hand."
"Don't touch me," I muttered but felt that the hand holding mine had rubber covering it so I didn't get a flash. That or maybe I was just too damn tired to handle a flash at all. I think the same person telling me to wake up was opening my eyes and shining a light in it. God if they were trying to help me they were doing a shitty job of it. Quit poking and prodding and just let me get some damn rest. Don't they say that sleep cures everything?
"Dennis, c'mon wake up we're going to the hospital." That was a sound I didn't mind hearing. Arthur's voice came in smooth and steady to my ears and of course I didn't mind when he was trying to wake me up. At least he wasn't jabbing his thumb into my damn temple to make sure I had some sort of nerve connection there still functioning. Not like these other assholes. I woke up sure enough and surrounding me were a bunch of paramedics and a very thankful yet exhausted family of Kriticos mixed in like a smattering of pepper. The maid was there too but she was a bit stark raving mad at the moment so I didn't pay much attention to her Ebonic ramblings, not trying to be racist or anything. I felt weird being the center of attention but when they lifted me up with the gurney and began to move me out of the house, I didn't care if I was stripped naked and paraded around town with music and balloons as long as I didn't have to see the glass walls ever again.
The air was really clean and cold. Not stagnant like in the house and not smelling like death and oil. That was a really fucked up smell. But this air smelled like pines and rain and shit I would wear it like cologne if I could. Bobby and Kathy were beside my gurney with blue blankets wrapped around their shoulders keeping them from shock while Arthur kept hold of my arm through its own coverings. He kept talking to me too.
"I saw her again you know. We all did. She wasn't in pain anymore. She was amazing, she was happy. I forgive you for all of this Dennis because she's at peace now. You just gotta stay with it until we get to the hospital." He kept on saying things like this and I understood a little of it, I think though it was aimed at me it was more of a general talk to keep him going. I felt that, that if he stopped talking all his reserve would go away and he didn't need that now. So when I could, I'd talk.
"Really? Forgiven? That's… pretty almighty of you." I wasn't trying to sound like a dick.
"Keep him talking."
"I can't be almighty. Just human. I can't hate you for doing what you didn't know." Arthur kept rubbing my arm through the blanket and I started to get more awake, more considerate of the world around me. Bobby was trailing behind so Kathy lifted him up on her back and moved more alongside me. They started talking too but it was so soft I couldn't hear. I felt bad not responding but what could I do when I couldn't hear? Arthur's voice was just louder than theirs.
"I wanted to be with people. I'm a freak. I just hate being alone." I started blubbering now, my eyes closed and getting teary. God, I am such a pussy. I mean this is a scene from a goddamn movie right? Big old strong guy gets his ass whipped and of course he starts having these revelations about life and of course the tougher, the stronger, and the more injured the fucker is, the harder he cries. And I was crying like when I was a baby. Just crying so damn hard, wanting nothing more to keep crying until I felt good again. And though this is one of those moments where I'm a total fucking pussy who would be ashamed and embarrassed of this later on, there was some truth to my rant. I think Arthur saw that and that's why he forgave me. I think that's why I was so easily forgiven.
Because, I really am a wretch and no one needed me to tell them that. They could see it and make their own deductions.
I kept crying until my chest hurt and before long, I was transferred from a moving hospital to a permanent hospital miles and miles away from the glass house. In a whirlwind of medical jargon and medical treatment, the Kriticos family was gone from my side but I wasn't ever alone because I was considered critical and a proper intensive care candidate. Emergency surgery on my hand, checked for a concussion and shock, tested for other broken bones and to no surprise, a dislocated shoulder and my collar bone shattered to pieces. In and out of surgery and in and out of consciousness. I still think it's funny how they beg you to stay awake only to medicate you off your ass later to muck around your insides. And to be honest, all things considered, my injuries weren't that bad. The worse of it was the amputation of my left hand and the resetting of my collar bone but other than that, I was just cut up and sore. About twenty hours after me leaving the glass hell hole, I was happily dazed in a sterile room flipping through the limited channels on the television elevated above me. Now, I'll admit, I was lonely but this gave me time to reflect and think about whatever came to mind.
For starters, shit. What the shit was all this? Why did my flash change itself like that? I mean it's happened before and it usually happens when there's a ton of people involved in the scenario. Think of it like this, the more human involvement you have in a situation with an either or outcome, the outcome can have more of a 50/50 chance of happening, in spite of my vision. It's happened. But this was different because it was only a few people and not a lot of human involvement to really alter the outcome. It's way more difficult for the outcome to change because of this. And it wasn't caused by the whole group, just Arthur. It was his script though, he was in charge. I just didn't think he'd have so much control.
And another thing! What the fuck were up with those flashes when I was getting mutilated? It was cool to have a place to live and like, hang out with the kids because they weren't that bad but what was up with the super creepy awkward closeness between Arthur and I? I mean that's just… that's some unexplained faggotry going on there. I think my flashes are just getting a little cryptic and possibly just plain old wrong. Granted it's never happened before but after everything I went through, who's to say it won't happen?
"Can we come in?" I stopped flipping and saw Arthur peek through the curtain along with Kathy and Bobby close to his side. I was still a little loopy from the drugs but I think I was with it enough to have company so I agreed and they came in, sporting pizza and soda. Best family ever.
"How you guys feeling?" I asked while sitting up. I didn't want them to see my stub of an arm yet so I covered it quickly under my blankets. As much as I loved the idea of company, I really just wanted to dig into that fucking pizza. Call me a pig but I hadn't eaten in a while and pizza just sounded so damn good. Bobby came and sat on my bed with two bottles of Coke in his hands, one for me and one for him.
"Dad had to get stitches! The doctors said I was the only one who wasn't hurt. Kathy's boobs had cuts so she had to have her boobs checked!" Bobby laughed out. Kathy was red and embarrassed, youthful and cute with a little brat of a brother and a father who tried to keep peace. And they still had a huge fucking pepperoni pizza hidden in that cardboard coffin of a pizza case. Oh yeah, my soda was already drank and gone so I was eyeing Arthur's. He got the idea and opened the box, handed over his drink, and asked Kathy and Bobby to stop bickering with one another and go find the vending machine. Nice to know that the life threatening event hadn't changed his fatherly way. The two left with a handful of ones and Kathy telling Bobby to not talk about her boobs ever again. Kids.
"I thought you'd want to eat without them staring."
"Staring at what?" I said when opening the box and showing my arm to the world. Even Arthur took a moment to stare at it and it sort of bothered me but I needed something to hold the box still while my hand worked with the lid. The stub didn't look too bad with the bandage on it so maybe later when it's no longer bandaged I'll just keep something over it. No way in hell would I get one of those fake fucking things. Those are ridiculous. Anyway, Arthur. Staring. Yeah it was weird. I had a slice in my hand while my other was reaching for a soda but never really getting it. I kept reaching for it and I realized when my arm bumped the bottle off the side and onto the floor. Shit. It started pouring all over the floor and Arthur like any decent father was quick to clean it up with some paper towels found above the sink in my room. It was then I realized I didn't have a hand anymore; that I had it tied behind my back permanently and I would always have to deal with just having my right hand. Again I was a pussy and again, I started bawling like that fucking infant denied milk and warmth. I wasn't loudly sobbing like I had before entering the ambulance but it was loud enough for Arthur to ignore the spilled soda on the floor and to come to my side. Jesus I wanted someone to touch me, put an arm around me even if I had the worst seizure of my goddamn life I just wanted some human contact.
Arthur put a blanket around my shoulder then put his arm around that blanket. He was catching on quick about layers between me and a person helps reduce the transmission of a flash and with the drugs in my system and the way I was feeling, anything that could get through was dulled. This was comfort in maybe not its purest form but it was so fucking close; there's something amazing about feeling fatherly love discharged onto another. I'm not his kid; I'm too damn old to be considered, but he had enough love and care in him to share it because being a dad does that to you I guess. I was just glad Kathy and Bobby weren't around to see this. I barely knew the kids but it still felt weird thinking that they would see me weak like this, like I was just another kid and not a grown man. Well, maybe I was just a goddamn kid but I would at least be at that stage of childhood where I want to be independent. I calmed down enough to finish the pizza I had and pick up another piece before the kids came back. Arthur was still next to me and seemed set on staying there even when the kids came back. Jesus it must have been at least ten o'clock the following day but they were awake and there, able to keep me company and feed me till I popped, and still seem to have a happy demeanor all in all. Adrenaline rushes mixed with pizza fuel and maybe they got a few hours of sleep before visiting me, when I was in surgery. Arthur must have warned them before they entered my room about my hand because they never stared or asked questions. Granted this could still happen but at least it wasn't right now. It was funny though; Bobby fell asleep at the foot of my bed and Kathy was gone shortly after in the reclining chair to my right. Arthur stayed awake, giving me someone to talk to until I could pass out myself. Who knew when that would be considering I already slept enough for a few days.
"How you feeling?" Arthur said, sipping a Coke. I shifted enough to get comfortable again but without waking Bobby. My ass was asleep and so was my head after another shot of painkiller by those ever so prompt nurses. Awake enough for conversation but not alive enough to be a barrel full of monkeys.
"Shitty. The food was awesome but I think it's fucking with my meds. That or I'm already sick of being here and am just sick. I dunno Arthur. I don't want to be here. Someone dies and I'm gonna feel it."
"The doctors said you can leave in a few days. They said you shouldn't be alone though because of your collar bone and your arm. It'll take some getting used to."
"You're telling me." I was a little pissy, sorry.
"Anyway… do you have anyone who can stay with you? Do you have anyone you can stay with?" It was sweet he was looking after me and my best interest but I'm a cynical bastard and kindness comes off as pity and help comes off as a loan my ass can't pay back.
"No. Not really Arthur."
"No one?"
"No one." I waited for him to pry into my life, about how I ditched my family after my dad died and his ghost made me flip out at his funeral or about how I'm a 27 year old virgin because I can't feel any woman's body without again, flipping out. Yeah sure, I'll spew on about those.
"I'm sure they have nurses who could come and help you." Thanks Arthur but now you're just sounding desperate.
"I don't want some nurse touching me and freaking out when I freak out. And it's just my hand being gone. It's not the hardest thing in the world. I can still walk, I can still move and I have one hand functioning," I emphasize this by waving my right hand at him, "so I don't need a babysitter."
"Your collar bone-"
"It's a bone. It'll heal. I broke my ankle once and kept walking on it for a week before I noticed. I'm ok." Ok that was a lie; I broke my ankle and walked on it for two days before it got swollen and gross and I had to go to the hospital. But anything to end this stream of conversation I wasn't interested in.
"Fine. If you're going to be stubborn, you can stay with us." I felt it was going to come down to that and though I kind of welcomed it, I hate being a burden. I really fucking hate relying on others. When you take care of yourself and always have, seeing other people trying to help you is foreign and frightening and maybe I was just a little scared of my visions right now. I saw the whole thing of me living with them and taking care of and being taken care of and sure that's fun but it's not my style. I don't need to be babysat.
"I'm not one of your kids Arthur. Thanks but no thanks."
"Dennis I'm not making this an option. You're staying with us, at least until you're healed. Deal with it." Damn it. The authority made me unable to decline and if I tried, I'd get the noose. You've two choices you convict, do community service or to the gallows with you. I just stared down death's face not even a day ago, I don't need this right now. And maybe a few weeks of babying and pampering might be nice and I would have all the company.
"Ok Arthur. Ok. You're the boss. Chill, I was going to go with you anyways. I don't have any food at my place anyway and since your uncle's a deadbeat, I have no money for food now. Heh, pun." I have a sick sense of humor sometimes. I'm a comedy genius. I'm also the world's best liar because I don't think he could read deeper that yeah I was broke and food probably wasn't the only thing that would be gone before all of this was over. I really wanted to go to my apartment before the shit hit the fan and grab some of my stuff before it was confiscated and used as property damage write offs. I didn't care for half of it but it was mostly my clothes, my books, and my journals I wanted to keep. Everything else could be used for collateral.
We went silent for a while, watching cartoons on TV and listening to the kids breath. A nurse came in to take my blood pressure and administer an antibiotic into my stomach. I didn't like those. She also changed my bandage on my arm and I got to see the remains of my wrist for the first time. There were stitches along the base of my wrist where my hand would have connected and, to say the least, it was a clean sever. It wasn't disfigured, gross, or oddly shaped but just a rounded off end where my hand would be. It was bruised a little from the attack but it still looked humane enough to be considered a part of me. I accepted it.
She left after a pretty new bandage was put on and after checking my shoulder's sling. That was the most painful part of my injury was the weird chest cast wrap they had me in to keep me from moving too much. I still had a hard time remembering I was injured because 1. High pain tolerance and 2. Morphine bitches so she said she might have to wrap my arm to my side to keep me from moving too much. I'd be practically a mummy which is cool since Halloween was pretty close. After she was gone, Arthur moved to a chair to my left and reclined it enough to stretch his legs. He seemed resistant to lean back and I remembered his stitches.
"How're you doing Arthur? Bobby said you had stitches."
"Yeah, about twenty in my back. It's noting really." He was trying to ignore his own injuries because I was there and hurt probably ten times worse. Hey I'm a dick but I'm not heartless.
"Is it bad?"
"No. Just a couple deep parts along my shoulder blades where there's no bone. That… Jackal thing knew where to dig its nails."
"Jackal… fuck." I shivered at the name. Hearing Arthur talk about it made it seem real. Sickly real.
"Yeah."
"It hurt?"
"It's uncomfortable. Doesn't hurt so much but it's annoying to try and lay down or against anything. Don't' want to rip them out."
"They'll heal quick enough."
More silence. I was thankful for that actually because I was finally starting to get somewhat comfortable and sleepy and so was Arthur from the looks of it. Bobby moved from laying horizontal to vertical along my legs so I could stretch a bit more and not worry about kicking the little bugger.
"Want me to move him?" Arthur asked, regarding Bobby.
"Nah. He's fine." I shut the TV off, turned my head away from the hospital hallway light and closed my eyes. I wanted to start sleeping immediately because if I didn't, I'd be subject to images of what happened. I may have hunted those ghosts and seen all of their most horrible acts, but they still scared the shit out of me. I opened my eyes again before thinking about that. No, I'm gonna sleep and not think of a damn thing. I rolled my head over to the other side and saw Arthur sleeping. He seemed peaceful enough and that calmed down and felt safe. I had lots of people here so I was completely safe and it felt great to be completely safe for the first time in a long time. I liked this feeling… being around people who cared enough to stay in my room while I healed. Yeah… this is pretty cool.
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Author's Note: As of now, I don't think there is any slash to be made between Dennis and Arthur. At the moment, I'm considering it more of a fatherly friendship. But again, this is subject to change depending on the reaction of the readers. I still don't know. The main plot of the story is just life after the big glass house and how to keep moving. I hope everyone likes it though! This was really different for me and it was fun to write. I like taking on the personality of other characters, especially one like Dennis who is still pretty vague but also very complex at the same time. Fleshing out his character will be awesome. But also showing more of Arthur, Kathy and Bobby will be fun too since they also have a great deal of character development to be had as well. Next chapter will be out in a few days.
